


Troublemaker

by black_cosmos



Series: Fate/GO High School AU [1]
Category: Fate/Grand Order
Genre: Gen, High School AU, M/M, PWP, i love them, these two are idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-09-21 12:26:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9548972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/black_cosmos/pseuds/black_cosmos
Summary: "We are not having sex in the nurse's office.""Where'd you rather go the gym storage room? It's busy around this time, it's Intramural after all." Gil is having none of his 'no'. Ozymandias already knows. He's been together with him too long. He has already learned that Gil will always get what he wants. He would never take 'no' for an answer, and Ozy doesn't know how to refuse him either way.The smirk on the blonde's face is almost insultingly cocky. Ozymandias narrows his eyes, "Gil. This is so absurdly cliché, I hate you."





	

There are a few things that one learns when dating someone like Gilgamesh. For one, he always gets what he wants. Always. Then there's the fact that his ego is a whole different entity to deal with all on its own. It's advisable that one should try not to have to clash with it if it's not needed. He is a prideful man who not only thinks, but also believes that he is better than anyone and everyone. Nothing he does or says is wrong because he is absolute. 

How in the world a high school student could have an ego the size of two earths? No one could really explain. To the plain eye, he's an egotistical asshole who only cares about one thing:  himself. He definitely shows that in the way he talks down on everyone, even teachers. Gilgamesh is the atypical troublemaker that people both try to stay clear of and want to get closer to. It's difficult not to find Gil intriguing because charisma to him comes second nature. He's the type of person that though people know they shouldn't, they want to follow him regardless.   
  
Perhaps what's the worst aspect of Gil's complicated personality is that his ego is the cause of this unhealthy competitiveness. That's where Ozymandias differentiates from Gil. He's not really all that interested in competition, and that's because in his mind, he doesn't have any. No one can stand even close enough to his pedestal to make him want to lift a finger and remind people of who he is, of what he's capable of doing. 

That said, he has been dating Gilgamesh since the last year of middle school, and now on their last year of high school, he is first hand witness to see Gil's competitiveness rear its ugly head. Three years of being in the same school. Three years of not joining any clubs, not caring about school spirit—and all of the sudden Gilgamesh is determined to own the school intramural. 

The school has this two-day event that leads into Golden Week that promotes competition between everyone in the school. The school is divided into teams consisting of one class from each grade level, and the competition goes from little games like tug of war, to things like chess. That includes any sort of competitive activity they could come up with. They have a tally on the big signboard erected in the middle of the schoolyard that updates the current 'medal' standings of each team. Intramural is the Olympics of this school, only less high stakes since they aren't really giving away any precious metal. 

Ozy is convinced that part of Gil's sudden competitiveness over the Intramurals is because for the first time since they've been together, this is the only year where they are in different classes, therefore, different teams. He can't be sure. It isn't like Gil was all that interested in it even weeks leading up to it. They hadn't spoken about anything to do with the intramural days leading up to it and all of a sudden Gil tells him his team is going to win this year. He then proceeded to talk Ozy into participating. He honestly still doesn't know how he agreed aside from the simple fact that he can't refuse Gil. Ever. 

So it begins. 

It isn't possible to participate in all the events as sometimes as many as four events are going all at once. Though he's sure that if it were possible, Gil would've competed in all of them. The first few events of the first day, he doesn't go up against Gilgamesh, which isn't so bad. Ozymandias, with the same enthusiasm as a teenager told to do his homework, easily wins his team three first place finishes. 

It seems good with that said and done, but when he comes back to their classroom there's a gathering of people from different grade levels clustering in front of the class. He raises a brow, and Nitocris runs up to him, "We've got a problem."

"What?" He asks as he dragged to where everyone is congregated. They're gathered around the blackboard where they have the tally of points. It looks like their team is in—"Second place?" 

He says so disbelievingly, eyes widening at the board. His team is second place with four first place finishes. They're behind Gil's team. They have six. Six?! They won first place finishes in half the events so far. How?! Nitocris seems to recognize the disbelief and questioning in his voice and expression as she informs him, "Gilgamesh won all the games he was in—so did Arjuna."

Gil, he expected, but Arjuna (captain of the Archery Team and Student Council President) is participating, too? He doesn't have enough manpower for this. He can't participate in more events than Gil to try to catch up, not when there are two of them in 3-A who is racking up all these wins. 

He slams his hand on the board, making a resounding noise that makes everyone look his way. He looks at Nitocris, "I need to know all the events Gil is participating in. I'll take him—where's Karna?"

Someone from the crowd beckons their head, and he looks to see Karna sitting on his desk, reading and minding his own business. He's wearing his uniform instead of his gym clothes. He's not participating? Too bad. He can't possibly handle competing with Gil and Arjuna. There's only one of him. Karna is in the track team, and he's part of a lot of events during meets. He's an all around good athlete. Not to mention, who better to compete against Arjuna than the brother he hates? Riling him up ought to dampen his spirits. 

Ozy pushes through the small crowd gathered around the board to get to Karna, standing in front of him. It takes a moment for the aforementioned to put his book down to look at him, "Yes?"

"You need to participate." Ozy would never realize it himself, but he talks to people just as how Gilgamesh does. He talks down. "I don't know of anyone else that can compete and win, I can't win against both Gil and your brother. I can't be in two places at once."

Karna's already flat-lined lips presses together even more. He shakes his head, "I don't want to provoke Arjuna further, he's already too competitive on his own."

"What? No. That's such a stupid excuse, don't you care about our team?" He argues back, baffled by that reply. No! Since when is a little competition a bad thing? They don't get along in the first place, so why does it matter? Ozy knows that there's really no one else competent in their class to ask. He won't even consider the underclassmen. 

"You… don't really care about this team either. You just don't want to lose to G—"

"Karna." Ozy cuts him off, crouching so that they're at eye level. He meets his eyes, expression firm. "The winning team gets free credits for PhysEd class, and if that's not enough incentive, you also have to remember that you're the only one who could stop Arjuna from bullying everyone he goes up against."

Karna looks a little surprised, but then he's back to that rather dead expression. He murmurs something along the lines of 'you are never going to let this go' under his breath. He lets out a breath close to that of a tired man sighing. "Fine."

"Good." Ozy grins, looking back at the crowd in front of the class. "Nitocris, sign me up to all the events Gil is on, and Karna at everyone Arjuna is on. We'll crush them and win this."

Nitocris eyes widen and then she frowns knowingly. Oh god. What has she done? 

What she has done is start a fire. After a small break, the first event Ozy is competing in is arm wrestling. He gets to the gym first, scouting out the competition. It doesn't take long before he hears that familiar lofty ‘hmph’ from behind him and that voice that he doesn't have to know that it comes with a smirk. "About time you show up. I was starting to worry you're running from me, Ozymandias."

"I hope you enjoyed winning while you could, then." Ozy snorts as he turns around to meet Gil's eyes. "We're going to win this thing. 

Gil chuckles. "We?"

"You didn't think you're the only one with an ace up your sleeve, do you? I'm in the same class as the stronger Mahabharata brother. Not to mention, I'm better than you." It's Ozy's turn to crack a smirk, sliding his hands into his warm-up jacket's pockets. 

"Oh?" Gil is unfazed, bold red eyes challenging and up to the task. "We'll see about that. I think t goes without saying, but try not to lose until I beat you.”

Gil winks at him before he walks up to the sign in table, and Ozy rolls his eyes (partly fondly) as he follows suit. It would've been ideal to face each other at the finals, but they meet each other when there are only four people competing. Not bad. He's still going to win. He steps up to the chair opposite of where Gil is already sitting, propping his arm ready on the table. 

"Second place isn't so bad, Gil." He says as he claps his hand to his, settling on his side.

"It's a good thing you're already telling yourself that. You won't be so disappointed placing after me." Gil replies with a smile, and the crowd lets out an 'ooh' at their trash talk. 

The referee is their Science teacher of all people, but he reiterates the rules, telling them to play it clean. When they both nod ready, and hear the 'go' they exert everything they could on their arms. Their hands aren't moving where they're clapped together. Honestly watching it, it looks like the two of them are just holding hands. 

"I've always had the better stamina." Gil muses, and hearing him talk is the only indication that there's any effort being put into where their hands are. 

Ozy snorts. “I’d say we’re just about the same in that category—don’t flatter yourself too much.”   
  
People around them get a weird look on their faces, and that’s not really a concern to either of them. All that matters right now is this, trying to topple Gilgamesh’s damn arm towards the side. Where their hands are joined starts to shake a bit and he could feel Gilgamesh pushing more. Damn it.

“I’m stronger.” Gil points out as his arm inches Ozy’s a little more.   
  
Ozy grits his teeth as he pushes his hand back to the start, to their previous position. He grins at Gilgamesh, his eyes alit with the challenge, “I’m better.”  
  
Gil pulls the trigger then, exerting all his strength into that arm and watching Ozymandias struggle to keep his arm up. He inches him more and more to the desk. It's out of sheer luck that the moment he thought he’s got him and Gil lets his guard down, Ozy pushes. Ozy makes Gil’s arm hit the desk instead, reacting at the split second Gil thought he's won. He looks disbelievingly at Ozymandias who smirks at him with a wink. “I told you I’m better.”   
  
Gilgamesh is sore loser. It’s really from a simple fact that he doesn’t lose. That doesn’t happen. So to be handed second place—after he almost broke the arm of the person competing for the position with him—is such a bitter pill to swallow that he almost quite literally wages war. The arm wrestling is only the beginning. 

They go at it at every event they’re on. It also doesn’t help that Karna and Arjuna’s victories are also back and forth. Gil wins some, and he loses some, and honestly, this is starting to get so bothersome. They had such a lead in the standings and now it’s neck and neck. He has the win right in his hands, and he should be thankful to have such a challenge so it’s not boring. As it is though, he’s just so bitter about losing.

He loses (again) to Ozy at the first event of the second day. How is he so much faster in running than he is? That’s about the time where he knows that he has to do something else. He glares at him from where they’re catching their breaths from the school-wide run, wiping at his sweat. “This is not over.”   
  
Ozymandias looks at him, and he laughs breathlessly. “Not by a long shot—”  
  
“Will you two stop it?!” They’re both surprised when someone exclaims at them from the crowd of people. Nitocris looks like she also ran the race (was she in it?). She walks over to them, still out of breath. “You two have turned this to some Gil and Ozy Show when this is supposed to be about school spirit! You’re making it less fun for everyone else!”  
  
Ozy snorts, raising a brow at her as he straightens up from where he’s recovering his breath. “Actually, it’s Ozy and Gil.”  
  
“Heh!” Gilgamesh exclaims his usual huff, smirking smugly. “It’s Gil and Ozy. It’s only OzyGil because Gil allows it.”  
  
“Oh, ho? Is that so? You know, I—”  
  
“Oh my god, that’s not the point!” Nitocris flails his hands upwards like she’s gesturing for them to just stop it.   
  
“Then what? That we shouldn’t compete? This team will not win without me… what’s the fun in losing?” Ozymandias asks, tilting his head like he’s challenging Nitocris to say something back that he’d listen to.   
  
“Ugh! Never mind! Why do I even bother?!” She storms off then, and just as Ozy is going to turn back to the argument that he’s about to have with Gil, he finds that the blonde is missing. Well. Okay. Fine, it’s not like he won’t see him for the next event.   
  
That’s why it’s all the more surprising that when he gets to the venue of the said event, Gil is a no-show. It baffles Ozymandias, really, since Gilgamesh’s name is on the sign up sheet. He also doesn’t show up the next event and that’s when Ozymandias actually starts to worry. What in the world happened? It’s not like Gil to sulk and pull out of competition just because he’s lost a few. He’s pretty sure they’re just about even, really, if not Ozy being in the lead just because they had an odd number of events they competed in so far. 

So, when they reach that break in between the events, he jogs to 3-A’s class instead of his own, peeking his head in and asking where Gil has gone. He really worries when a few of them points him to the direction of the infirmary. 

 Ozy walks to the nurse’s office briskly, ignoring people as he does so. He knocks on the door, announcing that he’s coming in as he slides the door open. It doesn’t seem like Liang-sensei is here.   
  
“Lock the door, Ozy.” He hears the soft call from one of the beds, furthest away from windows, the curtains drawn shut. Ozymandias frowns. Gil’s voice definitely sounds… weak. What in the world is wrong? He sighs a little as he locks the door, walking over to where the sound came from. When he pulls the curtain open, he sees the lump under the blanket that could only be Gilgamesh with his back turned towards him the way he's curled. He’s laying on his side with his warm-up jacket is draped along the metal head board of the worn out spring bed.   
  
“Did you… overexert yourself or something?” He asks as he walks forward. He makes sure to draw the curtain close, knowing that Gil probably asked him to lock the door because he doesn't want to be seen like this by anyone. As soon as he gets close enough though, a hand darts out from the mess of blankets, yanking him to the bed. The bed coils protest loudly when he hits the bed. The uncomfortable bed squeaks even more when Gil shifts. 

Ozymandias finds himself laying on his back with Gil sitting on his stomach. Gil does not look at all like he's sick. In fact, he's as smug as ever. Ozy deadpans, but then he chuckles, expression mirroring that if the blonde sitting on him. "So… that's your plan then? Lure me here so I can't take part in the games?"

"Not everything is about winning." Gil's tone is haughty. He's so sure of himself even if Ozy knows that this is bullshit. There is no one parallel universe wherein Gilgamesh would ever even consider that. They both know it's a lie, but Gil is unfazed. He smiles at him, wickedly, hands finding his chest. "I want to have sex."

Ozy's eyes widen in disbelief. He says what he says next like it's a final statement that leaves no room for arguments in hope that Gil would just let it go. That's almost like trying and failing to move a mountain by looking at it. "We are not having sex in the nurse's office." 

"Where'd you rather go the gym storage room? It's busy around this time, it's Intramural after all." Gil is having none of his 'no'. Ozymandias already knows. He's been together with him too long. He has already learned that Gil will always get what he wants. He would never take 'no' for an answer, and Ozy doesn't know how to refuse him either way. 

"We don't even have what we need." Ozy doesn't know why he's still trying. He really doesn't. Gil's eyes glints of knowing he's won this. He shifts where he's sitting so he could reach the pocket of their obnoxious blue sweatpants. From there, he fans out two packets of lubricant and condoms like they're cards he's revealing. The smirk on his face is almost insultingly cocky. "Gil. This is so absurdly cliché, I hate you."

"Say that to me again after I get you off." Gil replies challengingly as he sets the packets off to the side, threading his fingers of each hand on Ozymandias'. He leans forward to seal their lips together. Ozy keeps his eyes open, definitely not amused. He's responding but with equal effort of someone forced into this. 

He can't believe he's on the bed of the nurse's office making out with Gil. He just has to start this, didn't he? It's uncalled for, who gets the sudden urge to have sex when they're been so distracted the past two days with Intramurals? He can't imagine losing turns Gilgamesh on. In fact, he half expects him to not even talk to him days after this. 

But here he is, curling his tongue along Gilgamesh's, rubbing it encouragingly as it slides and dances in his mouth. Gilgamesh flicks the tip of his tongue deftly along the spots that makes Ozy's fingers curl against his knuckles. His arms are awkwardly sprawled on his sides, his legs bent the same way. 

Ozymandias doesn't know if he's more annoyed at Gil for initiating or at himself for responding. But Gilgamesh is unrelenting despite the hesitation in his movements. Eventually he straightens out where his legs are, giving Gilgamesh's hands a squeeze He's already kissing him, like hell Gil would stop there. Gil probably already knows the outcome the moment Ozy locked those doors. He already lost then.

He feels Gil shifting to straddle him a little more properly, lining their groins together. He wrestles with his tongue so he could slip his own into Gil's mouth this time, returning the favour. He feels for the wet warmth of his mouth, tastes every inch of him. Gil's tongue every now and then darts up to dance with his, pushing him the right way to where he prefers to be touched in a kiss like this as if Ozymandias doesn't know. He feels heat stirring in his core, sparking between their mouths. 

It's a familiar cocktail of stimulation, and partnered with the way he feels Gilgamesh starting to grind down against him, Ozy almost forgets they're in the nurse's office. Almost, because as soon as he tries to jut his hips up to respond and add to the friction, the bed protests under him. He groans annoyed, opening his eyes just to roll them.  

Gil must've felt it or he might have halted his movements because he sees those red eyes opening half-lidded to meet his golden orbs. Gil lets go of his hands, running them up his arm, to his shoulders still over the tacky blue warm up jacket he's still wearing. The kiss breaks and Gilgamesh murmurs against his mouth, "You're way too tense. Relax, won't you?"

 "How am I supposed to do that when the bed's too loud?" He asks, moving his hands to Gilgamesh's hips. He gives them a squeeze. 

"No one's here. The only one with the key is the school doctor and he's helping monitor an event." Ozy wonders to himself how in hell Gil knew all this. Did he plan it? "Besides, I'll be louder. Just wait." 

Gil smirks and once more he resumes the kiss like they hadn't been interrupted. He coaxes Ozy's tongue back into his mouth, tipping his head to deepen the kiss even more. Ozy gives his hips a squeeze, rolling his eyes and trying to not think too much. It isn't as though Gil has relented moving his hips, so the friction is still there. He just can't respond because the cry of the bedsprings isn't exactly a turn on. 

 Funny enough, he thinks back to the point he said to Nitocris about how it's OzyGil because he allows it. Is that it? Is that's why he's doing this? To prove his dominance? 

Gil wouldn't do something so petulant… at least, that's what Ozy is telling himself. 

 The kiss tapers off into chaste ones as Gil pulls back from it. He ducks his head to press his lips along the underside of Ozy's jawline. Ozymandias finds himself tilting his head a little to allow more room, despite the fact that he knows he’s got to smell like sweat. His arms goes around Gil's lower body now. He wants to push him down to press more against him where he's rubbing their undeniably hard lengths.

 Just as he does that, Gil slides down lower, denying Ozy of the pull he wants. He wiggles to settle between his legs now, sitting up to look down at him where he's knelt. Gil smiles, smug, but it's not a smirk. Maybe he could consider that an improvement. 

Gil reaches to run his hands from his shoulders, down his chest, and along his stomach feeling for the muscles beneath. Ozymandias is gorgeous with or without his clothes. It's a high compliment coming from Gil, but it's not like he's going deny the fact that he is. As much as he would like to strip them both naked though, it seems like a lot of work. So he doesn’t. Instead, he continues the trail of his hands from his abs down to his hips. He catches the band of his sweat pants with his fingers, and he hooks them so he catches his underwear, too, as he pulls everything down. He pulls them enough to reveal his length, give it some room.  
  
Ozy looks down at him, and they lock eyes before Gil ducks his head down. He deliberately holds his length in one hand as he moves down, pressing his face against the side of it. Ozymandias feels his entire being freeze on seeing that sight. It’s on purpose, but he falls for it anyway. Gil smiles, darting his tongue out so he could lick along the side of his length pressed closer to his face. He uses his hand to move his length so he could lap his tongue around the shaft—like some crude way of licking a popsicle. He’s making a show of it.  
  
He runs his tongue along the thick vein on the underside of Ozy’s length before he focuses on the head of his erection. He swirls his tongue around the sensitive head, trying to find all the bundles of nerves that’ll spark Ozy even more. Ozymandias, on his part, grips the sheets beneath his hand, tugging on them like he could suppress his reaction to the pleasure being given to him. It’s impossible, but he’s trying. He’s flushed from what’s happening and from the fact that Gilgamesh is watching him like a hawk.  
  
“Gil…” He calls through gritted teeth though he doesn’t know why he needs to when Gilgamesh is still looking at him as he continues to lick along his length, lips wrapping around the tip teasingly. “Turn… over here.”  
  
Gil isn’t sure what he means, it looks like as he pulls back from his length, raising a brow at him. Ozymandias sighs exaggeratedly, though it really is because he’d rather not be blunt about this when he’s already flushed from everything that’s happening. Ozy explains though, “Turn your body so I can stretch you.”

As he thought, Gil makes a big deal out of it. His red eyes widen and then he chuckles. “Rameses, how kinky of you. Though, if you want to sixty-nine, all you need to do is say so. How are you shy when we’ve been dating for years?”

Gil licks at his length one last time before he sits up. He wrestles himself off his own pants, and Ozy watches him. He replies rolling his eyes—he swears he’s been doing it so many times that he won’t be shocked if his eyes roll out of their sockets, “I’m not shy, I’m just not as dirty mouthed.”  
  
“It’s only dirty because it’s usually around your dick.” Gilgamesh is speaking so crudely for a reason: because Ozy pointed it out. He shifts now though, kneeling with his back turned on Ozy’s head. He moves so he could lean forward, brace a hand on his thigh and have the other one holding his length. He jumps right back to what he’s doing, letting Ozy shift his knees how he wants to.  
  
Ozymandias has grabbed a packet of lube as Gil has gets settled. This… is new. They hadn’t really done anything like this before, but then again, they’re in the nurse’s office having oral sex that’s about to lead to penetrative sex. Should he really be talking? Now he has to work while receiving pleasure and that’s going to be a little difficult to do, but he’ll try. At least in this position, Gil isn’t looking at him anymore.

In some way, it’s already better.

 And really, how could it not?  
  
Gil’s legs are relaxed since his weight is pressed on his knees. That all makes his behind seem even more pronounce. It could also be just the angle he’s looking at him for, but hell if he doesn’t have an ass that makes Ozy think he really is a lucky guy. Of all the high maintenance things that he has learned about dating Gil, he gets moments like this that reminds him of the multitude of reasons why he loves him. He absolutely adores him, and not just because of times like this, of course.  
  
He might have been getting too sentimental because he feels Gil’s mouth wrapping around his length a little more now. He’s deliberately trying to pleasure him to remind him that he has promised him more. Honestly, he doesn’t know what to do with this man half the time.  
  
So, Ozymandias does what any person would at this situation: he returns the favour. He presses a kiss against his perineum, nipping at the sensitive skin that earns him a shudder that runs along Gil’s entire body. He feels his lips quiver against where they are along his own shaft and that—that indescribable feeling is what urges him to keep going. He teases his tongue along the sac when he reaches it with a tilt of his head, and he blindly rips the lube to get it on his fingers. That is what he said he would be doing, but he never said that he would do only that.  
  
He rubs the lubricant between his fingers, warming it up before he even feels for his ass. He touches the rump of them with his hands, lifting his oiled fingers to avoid making too much of a mess. He continues to run his tongue along the base of his length as he massages his hands along the globes of his behind. They’re contradicting soft as they are muscular. He gives them a squeeze when he feels Gil’s tongue hitting a particular sensitive bundle of nerves along his shaft, a reward of some sort.  
  
Ozy closes his eyes to focus both on what he’s doing and Gil’s mouth on him. He shifts his hands a little more properly on his ass, finding that sweet tight spot he’s looking for. Only then does he press the pads of his oiled fingers, knowing he can’t really waste any lube since Gil only has two. The fact that Gilgamesh even has two packets of lubricant is baffling enough, really. He starts to put pressure where his finger is, letting the muscle relax enough beneath the pad of his middle finger. As he slowly slides that digit in, he reaches his free hand to his length, pulling on it so he could get at it more with his tongue. He laps at the precome that’s made it way down his shaft.

Gilgamesh lets a muffled moan sound along his length, which just sends pleasure vibrations along the shaft. He doesn’t know what the greater turn on is: the vibration or the fact that Gil makes that sound. Either way, it’s his cue to keep going. It’s his trigger that Gil approves of what he’s doing. So he tips his head as much as he could so he could also wrap his mouth around his length. He could only reach the head, but it’s enough for him to suck on the appendage, all the while prodding inside of him with his finger. It takes some time before he even slides the second one in. Gil is always so tight. It’s almost like someone hits the reset button when they don’t do this so often, which means all the more reason to do it more frequently.  
  
Preferably not in the nurse’s office, though, next time.  
  
He moves his tongue very similarly to the way he likes it when Gil does it for him. He runs it along the head, pressing the tip against the slit. His fingers bend and curl at different angles inside of him, feeling that grip and heat that he knows will be around him soon enough. A sensation that probably equals the careful attention Gil is giving his length now. He risks a third finger—Gilgamesh isn’t a very patient man, so they normally don’t get this far—and perhaps it’s the distraction of also giving pleasure, or the mouth around his length, but Gil doesn’t complain. Hardly. In fact, he moves his mouth, lips, and tongue even more earnestly along his length. Perhaps that’s his way of saying no, rushing Ozy into his orgasm because he certainly can feel that the build up is about to fall.  
  
It works, which isn’t a surprise to either of them.  
  
Ozy lets his length go from between his lips, running his tongue along the shaft. He’s still moving his fingers inside of him though, but he speaks, “I can’t… anymore…”  
  
Gil removes his mouth from around him, looking back trying to meet his eyes which is difficult given their position. “I know, but you kept going with your fingers, so, I did, too.”  
  
The tone in which he said that would be a great match with a shrug, but as it is, he doesn’t shrug. At least, Ozy doesn’t feel it. Gil slides his hips, forcibly making Ozy’s fingers slip out. Once more, he moves on the bed, making the bed springs creak and be obnoxious. They fall on deaf ears now, as Ozy doesn’t care. Gil is sitting on his thighs and he’s putting on the condom on his length. The fact that Gilgamesh isn’t telling him to move is… indicative of how he wants to go at this. That thought alone pushes all the blood back to his length where it’s backed off the slightest at the pause.  
  
Gilgamesh meets his eyes, those red orbs on fire with mischief and also just… his arousal. Ozymandias won’t deny that his eyes are probably the same, in fact, he smiles and sets his hands on Gil’s thighs. He slathers some of the remaining oil along one side, but that’s okay. Gil doesn’t seem to care. Ozy raises a brow at him, “You’re going to ride me?”

 “It can’t be helped, Rameses. You tense up when the bed makes sounds, I’d rather you didn’t stop moving just when the going gets good.” As he says that, he moves so that Ozy’s length is between the crevasses of his ass. He starts a slow, teasing grind as if they aren’t mid-conversation. “Listen to me instead… I promise I’ll be loud.”

Ozy grinds his teeth, trying not to make a sound, which is ironic considering the declaration. “Not… too loud…”

Gilgamesh chuckles, haughty, and he could feel him contracting the globes of his ass to squeeze at his length. “Still worried about people walking in on us? Have I not done enough to take all your attention? You're tough to impress, Ozy.”

 “And you're impossible.” Ozymandias replies with a find roll of his eyes.

Gilgamesh chuckles but he doesn't waste another second. He reaches for the half used packet of lube to oil his length, the condom is pre-lubricated but he has been grinding against it, rubbing the line all over his ass. Besides, there is no such thing as too much lube. With that, he lifts his hips up, hand holding Ozy’s length while the other braces himself on his stomach.

That sight takes Ozymandias’ breath away. Gil has his legs spread, length hard and weeping between, curling slightly upwards to his stomach. The white gym shirt he's wearing is clinging slightly to his skin from sweat. He's flushed from the exertion of sex, biting his lower lip to focus on what he's doing. The tips of the fingers of his free hand are spread on Ozy’s stomach just in case he loses his balance as he lifts himself with his powerful legs, hand holding his length so he could guide it towards his behind. He's so fucking beautiful.

He doesn't know how he gasps when his breath has already been taken while beholding the sight of Gilgamesh, but he does. He gasps when he starts to feel the pressure of that tight ring he so attentively stretched out. Really no amount of prep is going to make it any less tight. He knows that much. Ozy reaches his hands to set them on Gil’s hips to steady him, eyes moving up to his face.

Gil is watching him. Just as before, he's looking at his face, even if his own look so incredibly delicious to Ozymandias. They meet each other’s eyes and Gil cracks a smile. 

With that, Gilgamesh takes a breath in, spreading his legs a little more as he starts to sink down along Ozymandias’ length. He takes it slow as the thick intrusion of the head of Ozy’s erection through the tight first ring is always the toughest. He moans—and it isn't just because he promised he’d be loud. He moans because as soon as he gets over that first hurdle, he sit down further. He gets to the point where he could let go of his length, hands moving now to brace himself between Ozy’s head.

Ozymandias groans, his hands moving to touch Gil’s. Gilgamesh isn’t even sure when he’s closed his eyes, but he opens them when he feels the gentle touch, meeting Ozy’s golden eyes. Ozymandias murmurs, “Take… your time…”  
  
“We—ngh—don’t have much time… left… haa…” Gil replies with a breathless chuckle. He squeezes where their hands are now laced together, another moan rips from his throat when he finally sits on the entirety of Ozy’s length.  
  
Ozymandias, on the other hand, grits his teeth, fighting every fibre in his being that’s telling him to move. He wants to buck up to that heat, to start the friction that he knows will come. The way Gil’s behind conforms perfectly to just hit all the right spots is almost miraculous, but it does. He feels like he’s being slowly tortured with the lack of movement. He also knows though, that he needs to give Gilgamesh the time to adjust. He doesn’t want this to be completely one sided. It never is when he’s with Gil, though.  
  
Gil lets go of his hands, sitting up straight instead of being hunched over him. Ozy has had barely enough time to breathe and to tell himself to calm down and back off, before he feels Gil rolling his hips. It’s inevitable that he provides some friction there, and frankly, the way Gil’s muscles are contracting and relaxing around his length as he tries to get used to the intrusion is heavenly to Ozymandias. Gilgamesh probably knows, and he smiles a little when he meets his eyes once more, taking a deep breath before he starts to shift his hips without actually lifting them.  
  
He’s emulating the movement of thrusting him without doing so yet. It’s a slow teasing process, but Ozymandias knows better than to rush it. Gilgamesh needs the time and they barely had that to stretch him out properly before they’ve jumped to this. Besides, Gilgamesh really isn’t the kind who teases when they’re in bed. Just as he is in everything that he faces, he’s direct and obnoxiously so. But there is a reason why he has told him to take his time, to remind him not to get impatient, which he has the tendency to do.  
  
“Are—hmm… are you ready, Rameses?” Gil asks, mischief dancing on his tone. Ozy has felt his muscles relax a little more around his length, and he supposes that right now, he just have to trust Gil that he’s ready as he says he is.  
  
“… when you are, Gil.” He replies, his own voice breathless, heavy. He reaches his hand to Gil’s hips again, not so much to support him, but to anchor himself into this moment.  
  
Gilgamesh keeps his eyes as he starts to lift himself up, just as he sinks him self down, just an inch at a time. He pushes off Ozymandias’ length the slightest before dropping his hips back down. He puts all the care in pulling up, but he lets gravity take care of the rest on the way down. It creates irregular sounds from him, starting with his muttered ‘mmhn’s to full blown ‘ah’s. It’s all the better. Ozymandias has not once said anything about the bed even if as Gil has started to ride him, his weight bouncing up and down has made the bed cry like it’s bearing witness to what they’re doing. He did promise him he’d be loud.  
  
Their eyes are locked against each other even if their voices are no more than just a chorus of the pleasure that starts to seep from deep within their bones. Ozymandias feels like he’s in heaven, that friction along with Gil still contracting his muscles around his length, is almost too much to handle. He’s deaf to the sounds the bed is making. He can’t lay still. He starts to thrust up when he knows that Gil is about to drop down, meeting each and every thrust with his own.  
  
“Lean… t-this… ngh, way…” Ozymandias calls. His hands are on Gil’s sides, trying to usher a better angle for him. He wants to help him. He wants to reward him with pleasure when he’s done nothing but spoil him since he’s seduced him here. Ozy just feels like it’ll only be fair.  
  
Gilgamesh move as he’s asked, hands now resting behind him, on Ozy’s knees. His back curls a little, pushing him up a bit from where he’s riding Ozymandias. In this angle, he could feel the length still thrusting in and out of him (even as he has slowed down his own movement) easing along that spot inside of him that sets him on fire. Just a little more and—when he hits his prostate, he moans loudly. Ozy groans in reply, thankful that he’s found it.  
  
Their movements just get even more desperate from there, and the movements of their hips are more fevered. Gil continues to sink down on his length, running a hand through his hair to try to take the sticking bangs off his face. Ozymandias bucks up to meet each and single one of Gil’s downward movements, always hitting that spot inside of him that makes Gil weak on the knees. They’re both getting there. They’re getting there ridiculously fast.  
  
The first to relent is Ozymandias. He holds back as much as he could before he no longer fight the heat that’s been rolling and tossing in the pit of his stomach. He comes with a moan of Gilgamesh’s name. Ozy continues to move his hips up, though, still trying to ride out his orgasm.  
  
Gilgamesh, on the other hand, feels that swell of Ozy’s length inside of him, and added with the continuous abuse to his prostate, he comes without touching himself. This isn’t the first time such a thing has happened, but he splatters all over Ozy’s gym shirt. That’s then later on smudged when his whole upper body just collapses on top of Ozymandias’, completely out of breath. The two of them stay as they are, catching their breaths and calming down from their after glow, floating in cloud nine that has both drained them and just took them so high it’s hard to come back down from that pleasure.  
  
Eventually, they do calm down. Gil is the first one to move, since when Ozymandias did move, all he did is wrap an arm around Gil. Gil actually lifts himself up to pull Ozy’s spent cock from inside of him. Out of courtesy, he ties off the condom and drops it on the floor near their clothes so they could get rid of it later.  
  
Later, being the key word before he shifts on the bed, pulling the blanket over the two of them as he lays on top of Ozymandias. He’s far too lazy, his muscles still singing from that orgasm to do much more than cover them up with the blanket. Ozy is the same way, wrapping his arms around him after he's done moving around, and just turning to settle underneath him. Some part of his tired mind tells him that there is something important he's forgetting. He doesn't really mean Intramural, though that's probably going to bite him in the ass later on. He knows that he's right. He knows that the reason Gilgamesh has done this is to take him out from competing by risking not going himself. He must have had someone else participating aside from Arjuna.   
  
Ozy's fine with that, honestly. So long as the school still isn't in rubbles because Gilgamesh and him decided to drag those brothers with him, then he could live with not giving his team the win. He remembers what is bothering him, though, blinking and turning his head to look at Gilgamesh.  
  
“… when you said we don’t have much time, what did you mean?” Ozy asks, breaking the silence. Gil is laying on top of him, breathing evenly, and of someone sleeping.  
  
“I meant sensei would be back soon.” Gil explains like that’s the simplest thing in the world. He lifts his head, red eyes meeting gold. There’s a smirk on Gil’s face when they look at each other. “But don’t worry, he doesn’t care enough about me to check up on us.”  
  
Though he knows he shouldn't, he believes him. Ozymandias should really know better and he should drag himself to get dressed and clean up, do the same for Gil. But he really cannot get himself to do that when Gil looks like a satisfied cat laying on top of him like that.

It's only OzyGil because Gil allows it, huh?  
  
He lets out a sigh, “This really isn’t what nurse’s office beds are for, Gil.”  
  
Gilgamesh chuckles, yawning and nuzzling against Rameses’ chest. “Next time, we’ll do it on the rooftop.”

**Author's Note:**

> M: /playing F/E, says something about nurse's office beds/ I thought of OzyGil  
> I’ve got you covered. σ(≧ε≦ｏ)
> 
> Welp. This is another self-indulgent OzyGil inspired by that art that was released where all FGO servants were wearing gym uniforms that I can’t even. Maybe one day I’ll drag my butt to write it in the Mahabharata brothers’ perspective…


End file.
